Split Seconds
by honmyo SeaGull
Summary: Before the journey. Dokugakuji learns to know Kougaiji while waiting out of a room. And red boy has a dream, and Doku makes himself useful.NEW SKETCH ADDED, set AFTER Kou's brainwash. Doku experiences euphoria.
1. Default Chapter

**Ore wa (Split seconds)**

**Author : SeaGull (2003)**

**Warnings : English isn't my langage. Thanks to any people kind enough to point my mistakes so I can remove them… Yaoi slightly hinted, bearable for yaoi's haters, though, I hope.**

**Disclaimer : Gensomaden Saiyuki isn't mine, yada, yada, yada…**

**One shot**. A Kougaiji's nightmare and despair. Chained by esperance. Narrated by Dokugakuji... Set before the beginning of the journey...

***

I've noticed it a few days ago...

In. A few minutes. Out. 

In. A few hours. Out.

And now that I know, I'm waiting. Each time. He doesn't know yet. Always calm and serene when he leaves the room. More determined, too.

Each time he disappears, I wait for him in the dark corner next that door. Then, he comes out, and a few minutes later, I pretend to have been looking for him for minutes or hours...

« _Kougaiji-sama_... I was looking for you. »

I bow low. I never ask anything. He has taken me by his side without asking a single question. He had seen in me the loyalty I had nothing to prove. I fall in his step, just behind. I'm following these three long strands of chestnut hair balancing on a long dark coat.

**I am his swordman.**

***

It's been a few months.

He is coming from this room again. When I join him, this time, I see him smiling slightly.

« Kougaiji... I was looking for you. »

I slightly nod, and keep walking beside him. I am looking at his proud profile.

« Well…You spend an awful lot of time looking for me. »

Oh, my prince, I can hear the sarcarsm in your voice.

« Indeed. »

I hear him laughing a little. And I am already addicted to the light sound. What is rare is always precious. Somebody is calling us. We are asked by _Gyokumen-koushu_. He stops laughing. I hate this woman already.

This is a young girl. Hiding behind the dress of a woman who doesn't care about her. Her hair is a bright orange, and she has huge green eyes.

« Take her with you, she is annoying me… » says the woman with the cold colored kimono. She looks at her nails and frowns.

« You may go... »

That's how we've met Ririn.

We are walking towards Kougaiji's place. He leads us. He is glancing at the girl once in a while... I'm right beside her and I feel she is afraid. She is staring at Kougaiji's back. Right now, on our way, she is plucking my sleeve. « He is my stepbrother, you know? » she says solemnly... I didn't know. He didn't know either, I think. I thought already Gyokumen wasn't his mother, though...

We are in Kougaiji's appartments, now. They are staring at each other. I cough softly to ask whether I should leave, but he motions me to stay. He is kneeling now, in order their eyes to be at the same level. She doesn't flinch, but doesn't feel secure either. He pats her on the head and then smiles. 

« Are you hungry? » he asks. And that's all. It's like he had always been a brother. And that's how he turned an afraid girl into the energetic _gaki_ we're all running after all the time...

« And let's drop the step- . I'm your brother now. »

« Thanks… _Oni-chan_. », she whispers back.How does he do to make the people around him feel so good ?

He asked me to protect her like I would protect him and to learn her fighting. « I want to make sure she can fend for herself », he tells me. I understand him. I hope I have taught enough to my little brother for him to survive till we meet again.

But tonight is different. Tonight, my prince is in this room again. I should wait for him like I've always done, no matter he comes out either only in the middle of the night or at the first dawn's lights. 

But tonight is _really_ different. The door is slightly ajar. He knows I know. I think he is waiting for me to come in. I obey.

The room is so vast. The room is so empty. The room is so dark. I can't even see him. What has he been doing here all these times ? But then, when my eyes are used to the darkness, I see. Far away, there is a wall. In the wall, there is a column. In the column is carved a woman. Beautiful. It's like she is living, like she is breathing, and about to come out of the stone. But she is stone. She can't move. It feels like she'd be a prisoner, only the upper half of her body visible...

Without thinking Dokukaguji (_Hai_… It's the name he has given to me) walks towards her. She is so high above me, but I want to touch the stone, I have to. I'm about to reaching for it with my hand. _Demo_, an other clawed hand, coming out of the shadows, grasps my wrist before. Kougaiji has been here all the time while I was looking in awe at the sculpture.

« Don't touch her », he says, « or you could die. »

I look at him. He is serious. And he is sad, too. He shows me the ropes hanging in the thin air, and the jufus on them. He explains he wants to make sure nobody will touch her again. Never. Even _Gyokumen-koushu_. He tells me how the woman in the pillar was once his mother, and how beautiful she was : far better than this stone image, even though after five hundreds years his memories begins to blurr. He tells me _how_, and what matters for me, _who_ turned her into stone. And how she is still alive in her shell, how sometimes he can still hear her voice in his dreams, calling him restlessly…

« I don't want her to know what her mother did , yet… I don't want her to think I might resent her. » Already thinking at his sister. « I don't want her here, yet. »

Then, he reveals me why he remains in that fortress, under the command of the woman he despises the most on Earth, to revive a father who was a monster...

« Someday, I'll find a way to wake her. Whatever the price. »

I killed my own mother. Maybe I will help his. It's comforting.

He trust me with his motives.

**I am his right arm.**

***

I'm waiting for him to come out the room. He knows I am. Sometimes I'm even in it with him.

« Kou…I was waiting for you. » I ruffle his mahogany's hair.

« So nice of you… You should learn a better way to spend your free time… » 

He tries to glare at me, but it's hard when meanwhile I see the hint of a smile on his lips… We're walking in the corridors now. My arm is casually curled around his shoulders. He frowns, but let me do as I want. His body is warm under the fabric and my palm. Every time I don't wear my white coat, his hair is soft under my arm.

I guard his door. Every night. At the beginning, he hasn't known. It was a thing I wanted to do. Since the first day he took me in. One day, he noticed it. Said he didn't like it. I have kept doing it. 

The most of the time he doesn't sleep at all. He reads antic books written in cryptic langages, with spells so powerful in them, they could ripp the whole world apart. Even Gyokumen–koushu doesn't know he owns them. But he is looking for only one spell. _Engokuki_ was only a little bonus, he told me once.

One night, he went out, told me to come in : « I can't concentrate with you standing outside. Stay here. I don't know : take a seat, a book, drink wine, do whatever you want… Just stop standing there in this cold corridor… » and every time he looks at me he sighs.

He doesn't understand, because he doesn't know (and refuses to ask). Once upon a time, a big brother decided that he would take care of his little brother. One day, he lost sight of the child for a few minutes and his step-mother tryed to kill him. He only saved the child by killing his own mother. This man was called Jien. But Dokugakuji doesn't want to make the same mistake. He will always know where Kougaiji is.

Now, even when he is slepping in his bed, I'm in the next room in a seat, with a book, a glass of wine or whatever I want…

But tonight is different.

Something has woken me up. I don't know what it is. I'm still sitting in Kougaiji's place. An half-empty bottle of wine beside a glass is put on the table, within the reach of my hand. He has been working late on an ancient scroll he had found a few days ago. It's been only a few hours since he made a slight wave meaning good night, with this annoyed glance of his which means « I don't understand why you keep watch like that ». He is in his bedroom now, and must be sleeping. I don't understand myself why I am so tense… Maybe it's because I've fallen asleep and feels a little guilty now. And I feel the need to check on him. It's stupid, I know. If he notices me sneaking in his chamber, I don't think he'll like it. But something has woken me up. I have to be sure he is OK.

He is there on the bed. At least, he hasn't disappeared and I'm relieved. He's always fully dressed, and I'm pretty sure he was sound asleep before even reaching the bed. Only one candle is lit, near the bed, shadows everywhere else. The trembling light makes highligths in his red hair. He is laying on his stomach, the face hidden under a protective arm.

And he is dreaming.

It's what has awoken me. He is trashing on the comforter, stirring sometimes. And there is some moans, too. I fear he is hurt or something, so I come nearer. My hand is nearly touching a strand of hair. That's when he wakes up. He sets up and stares at the space, panting, eyes wide open. I step back in the shadows : how would I explain I was here staring at him ? But he doesn't see me. A few minutes he hides his face in his hands. I keep on with my silent vigil. When his breath is even, he just stands up and begins striding towards God knows where. So I follow. Like I always will.

I should have known. We are in this room again. But he is not standing proud like he usually is. He is kneeling, head lowered, like in penance. I don't understand the words he keeps repeating like a mantra. So I come nearer (I know, it tends to become an habit…).

_« forgivemeforgivemeforgivemeforgivemeforgivemeforgivemeforgiveme forgivemeforgivemeforgivemeforgivemeforgiveme… _»

And I feel my heart breaking. 

« Kou ? » 

I'm kneeling right beside him now. 

« Kou ? » 

And I don't dare touch him.

« I failed her… », he whispers suddenly. So much despair. And one tear. So precious.

My arms are already around him, even though I don't know how. He leans in the warm embrace without noticing.

« I had a dream… » he is talking to the space, I don't know whether he is even conscious I'm here.

« … I draw above all from my mother's soul I read through her eyes, I felt her impressions, I loved through her love…Her soul was so bright, so colored and so warm, that she never left either darkness nor coldness on anything… »(* : look at the note downthere, please)

I'm listening and I understand now, what kind of torture it must be to see her like that, everyday since more than half a millenia, so… Cold. But he keeps talking.

« But tonight I've dreamed, that somebody was coming here… It wasn't me… And they dared touch her, and slowly, how so slowly, she turned into dust, as I was screaming again and again, just like, just like she never had been there, never existed… She was dead… » 

And his hands coming up again to hide his face, as if the vision of his own mother right in front of him was too much for him, and I don't understand why he is not relieved to see that she is still here, alright in her stony prison…

« And I failed her… I failed because for a split second I've been happy, because she was free in her death, and happy because I was free, too… No more promise to keep, no need for me to stay here… Only the mourning left… How can I stand again in front of her now ? I'm not worthy of her love anymore… »

Ho. So that's why.

« So you don't want to free her anymore ? » I dare ask. 

He raises his head up. It's the first time he is really looking at me. The first time he notices he is not alone. But he is looking at me as if I were crazy… And the fist landing on my face takes me by surprise…

« Of course I will save her ! No matter what ! » 

And he is standing proudly, fire back in his purples eyes and glowing in his fists – fire demon in all his splendor… Standing up above me.

And in spite of the pain in my jaw, I feel myself grinning madly : 

« That's the Kou I know… » I state.

And here he is, fully aware now, looking at me in wonder and then apologetically when he sees the bruise on my face. I grasp his hand to stand up. He is still staring at me, and whispers he is sorry. My arm makes his way around his shoulders, where I'd want it'll always be. He makes no move to distangle himself from me.

« You see I can be useful when I keep watch at your place ! », I state again.

« Yes, I'm know that now.», he agrees quietly.

He doesn't push me away each time he is sad now, and lets me follow nearly everywhere without complaining.

He trusts me with his pain and his tears.

**I am his friend.**

***

Months later…

Kou has just come back from a diplomatic mission at the Hyakugan-mao's castle, a few days ago. He hasn't come back alone.

Today, we're two waiting out of this room. She is a newcomer. She is called Yaone. She looks frail, but her mind is strong. She is supposed to be a biochimist, but spends most of her time with the little Ririn (or running after her, more exactly – nice holiday for me !).

« I won't leave him » she says. Another one whose life he changed. I understand her. It's a pact. For him, and between the two of us, too. We'll follow you. No matter what.

Once he asked me when she would let drop the –sama thing. He told me it had already been a bit hard to make _me_ lose the habit. I told him it would take a long time : he had saved my soul and my self-dignity.

He had saved her life and integrity. It's going to be a lot longer.

When he comes out of the room, she bows low , and it makes me laugh quietly, because my arm is already flung on Kou's shoulders.

**_Ore wa…_**

**_Swordman…_**

**_Right arm…_**

**_Friend…_**

**_And…_******

« Kou… We were waiting for you ! »

What I am now ? What will I be later ?

I don't know.

I want to be more every day, because I care more and more every day.

***

(*)OK, I know the translation is not good… Here is the real sentence :

« Je puisais surtout dans l'âme de ma mère je lisais à travers ses yeux, je sentais ses impresssions, j'aimais à travers son amour… Son âme était si lumineuse, si colorée et si chaude, qu'elle ne laissait de ténèbres et de froid sur rien ».

Alphonse de Lamartine.


	2. Chapter 2

Disc. Not mine.

Story written in French and loaded a long time ago on my other profile (Fabulae Faber on ffdotnet). Posted here and not as a new story, since ffdonet refuse to allow me to create a new story, I still wonder why. I'm not good at turning French into English, so, sorry if the language is even more atrocious than usual…

**Summary: **Yaone and Doku are following Kou. Everything is alright in the best of worlds. Short Doku's POV. Missing scene at the end of Kou's brainwash and before his coming back to Hoto.

Birdie : Oh, I forgot. Don't get used to it. I don't do optimistic fics usually.

Dokugakuji (still having nightmares) : _How_ could I forget…?

**« _Euphoria_**** »**

I can't speak. I positively can't.

All I can do is following and staring. Walking close behind and devouring the sight. Rediscovering the way you move, simply. Even this wasn't yours, lately. Reaching out with my hand and catching myself just in time before I brush your shoulder.

I'd like I knew for sure that I'll always remember these moments with the highest clarity. Never forget the exhilaration whirling in my chest whereas I'm attending to you again and that you acknowledge my presence.

Every single detail of the picture is perfect. The bright daylight flowing through the swaying foliages in the faint breeze. The nice feeling of the warmth fading slowly in the end of afternoon. The hollow sound of the foaming stream still audible far down there. The mad chirping of the birds. The intoxicating fragrance of the fuzzy white flowers wildly festooning the vines that coil inextricably in the high branches. A single, immaculate, fallen petal on your shoulder which is almost invisible on your white tunic. Soon or later these memories are going to fade from my mind even if they strangely belong to the eery perfection of the picture. But, the colchicums…

I still can feel this idiotic smile blossoming on my face. I am utterly unable to wipe it away… Colchicums on the pathside are pale violet, and from the bottom of my heart I wish I could remember their how so distinctive, how so _familiar_ shade…

They are forgotten, both these foes that we leave and don't hate, and these « allies » we are about to join in Hoto and are the root of all our misfortunes. One step after another, the only thing that matters is the narrow footpath and the person I'm tailing. You are back. To your usual self. Merely a bit more quiet, perhaps. But Yaone and I don't blame you, because at this very moment, none of us feels like talking, feels like remembering. All that counts is the present moment.

The feeling of my good fortune is sustaining my pace. I feel rich today. I own nothing but I have all that I want. Perfect contentment. During these minutes, I have no desire. This is the reason why of this blissful smile, stubbornly if not absurdly locked on my face.

It happened so quickly. I had no hope any more. Only the consciousness of the choice I had made and the strong will to stick to it, whatever be the price. This is the way I always meant to live my life.

And that lightning. The brightness of the glowing head of Son Goku's _nyoibô_ cutting through the air in the middle of the silvery swirls of my brother's _shakujou_. The blinding certitude of my last moment to come, or a wound, at the least, and blackness and impossibility to protect what (_who_) I care the most about. Failure. How did I get tricked so easily?

And the blow that never falls. Never strikes me.

See the surprise that transforms my foes' faces, and feel myself still standing.

Because, obviously, somebody shielded me. Somebody. One ridiculous moment, I haven't understood.

The incredulity which follows the awakening from a nightmare. The last moment of doubt that hopelessness had tried so hard to submerge. One second to understand it could be only you, the one who intervened. Astonishment is like a blow in the chest which takes the breath away and makes spotlights dance in your sight.

See the form sprawled on the ground. And realize. See you coming back for a mere second to loose you once again.

Find this way the freedom to touch you again, from this day you pushed me away, is a real nightmare. You're unconscious. And then, hardly a breath, so close, to my ear…

Three words. But they are yours. Your voice. You.

My joy is so fierce that it's easy to act the anger and hopelessness for the ones who are looking at us. In order to forget the doubt that lingers that I might still be wrong, that my dream is not reality. Maybe it's too good to be true…

That's why I'm almost surprised all over again as the well-known words of the incantation ring in the atmosphere. And this outburst of heat which marks Engokuki's appearance in our dimension has always such a resonance, he looks so much like you, somehow, that doubt isn't allowed any more…But I have learnt to be cautious.

The words you address to a wet (and outraged) _sanzo-ikkou_ sound like you. Their soft irony as you announce your – our- retreat sound like you. And thank God, this frank and direct look as you turn to us at last, it's you.

How come you even dared ask whether we were coming with you? But your derisive smile shows you're openly scoffing at me. Of course you know. No vain oath, when we swore we'd be following you, _nee_? Even to the heart of your darkness, we'd do. _Now_, you know.

Yaone's eyes were bright. She looked like an ecstatic Madonna, as if shining from the inside. Her eyes grew tremendously, sparkling with suppressed tears of joy. Somehow, she is still in the same state at the minute. I wonder whether this joy that transfigures her can be seen on my face, too. If mine is the mirror of hers.

The place is quiet, the path leading to our dragons is pleasant. Turn round and look at us, Kou. See the power that you have on us.

Come to think of it…Felicity in faithfulness. You did not forget me. Do you realize? Something in you could remember and ripped the veil of darkness which sinful hands had laid in your mind. The very idea that your return was tied to the fact that _I_ was in danger is like something too incredible to be true. This an unspeakable feeling of happiness whose reason seems utterly misplaced…Whatever be the cause, who cares after all, since you came back to us…

You turn round at last. I can read the shock on your face. The sheer intensity of the joy on our features overwhelms you, just like the warmth of your gaze on us will always have an incomparable effect on the people who swore to follow you. There's no need for words, and birds keep on chirping to fill the silence.

Everything is fine.

Well, not for Yaone who suddenly lets go of a muffled cry, remembering one of the wounds from one of the monk's bullets and already trying to mend it feverishly…

Your look is desperate, it is almost comical. I avoid mentioning to our chemist that your other arm seems ankylosed and that I fear it might be broken. Since you don't care, even this can't mar my sheer delight, this feeling of obscure certitude that everything is as it has to be.

Where are we heading? What is left to do for you? I don't know, I don't even have the strength of trying to remember. As long as I fall in your step, it doesn't matter. You'll choose freely where to go. Where to lead us.

« _Daijoubu desu_. »

You want to comfort Yaone, but you seem yourself surprised by the fact. You're not simply speaking of the scratch on your arm. A slight smile graces your face, eventually. This is too much, and this time, I can't restrain my hand. My palm lands on your hair, and I realize for the first time how much my gesture has something of overly possessiveness, before ruffling the mahogany bangs between my fingers. So comforting, this renewed familiarity.

Yaone's pearly laughter. I'm pretty sure she knows how much I missed this contact. By listening to it, you give up any desire of protestation with a resigned and almost amused sigh.

Your shoulders straighten up slightly after this ministration, and you resume your walking.

Whatever happen, everything will be alright.

I don't know how I might call this feeling.

_Colchicums, don't forget the unique color of the colchicums, _my mind whispers a last time…

oOoOoOo **owari** oOoOoOo

**A/N **: Euphoria : (greek. _eu_, well, good, and _pherein_, carry, feel.) intense sensation of well being, perfect joy and optimism.


End file.
